


Cry Alone

by FleetSparrow



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Batfam Bingo Card 1, Batfam bingo 2019, Gen, post-Last Laugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 14:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18317225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/pseuds/FleetSparrow
Summary: After the events of Last Laugh, where Dick killed the Joker only for Bruce to bring him back, Dick is suffering alone.





	Cry Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Canon--Last Laugh

_“I...I killed him.”_

It stayed playing over and over in his head. The feel of his fists meeting bone, shattering it. The thump of hands beating chest, arresting a heart. Dick felt a little like Lady Macbeth; he still saw the blood on his hands, still felt the residue, still smelled the iron taste of it. He had been happy, truly happy, knowing that the Joker was dead and gone and couldn’t hurt anyone anymore. But when the joy faded, when Dick had realized what he had done….

And Bruce wasn’t speaking to him.

He couldn’t blame him. Dick had done the unthinkable. The one thing Bruce had taught him to never do. He’d lost control, and he was paying for it.

He hadn’t been out on patrol since returning to Blüdhaven. In fact, he hadn’t left his apartment in days. He was just going through the motions now. Wake up, eat, shower, lie on the couch for hours, turn the TV on for noise more than anything, eat, sleep. Repeat.

He was running out of food, but he didn’t feel like going out. He didn’t trust himself anymore, not with anything. So he sat on his couch and let the news run at half volume and waited for sleep to come.

A knock sounded at his door. Dick looked up in dull surprise. No one knocked on his door. Nobody ever came to see him here. Maybe it was Barbara, if she wasn’t still mad at him. Slowly, he stood and went to the door. His hand was on the doorknob when it occurred to him to check the peephole.

Bruce.

Dick recoiled. He had wanted to see Bruce so badly these past few weeks. But knowing he was here, at the door...that was too much. Dick stepped back and waited for him to go away.

Bruce knocked again.

Pain ate away at him, gnawing on his insides. He wanted to open the door, but he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t prepared for this lecture. He’d already failed Bruce once. Here he was doing it again.

There was a rustling of clothing and the jangling of keys and suddenly his door was opening. The chain stopped it from opening all the way, but it was enough for Bruce to look in.

“Dick. I know you’re there. Talk to me.”

Dick inhaled sharply—something Bruce couldn’t have missed—and pushed the door shut, undoing the chain. He steeled himself and pulled the door open again.

Bruce stood there in a suit, which was unfair under normal circumstances, but felt especially daunting now. He stepped in, shutting the door behind him.

“I came from work,” Bruce said, in lieu of a hello.

“Oh,” Dick said.

They stood there staring at each other, neither saying a word.

“You're not taking care of--”

“It's nice you came--”

They stopped. Dick nodded to Bruce, letting him go first.

“You're not taking care of yourself.”

Dick looked down. “I've been doing alright.”

Bruce glanced around the apartment. “It’s stuffy.”

Dick opened a window. “Sorry. I don’t smell it.”

“You haven’t been out in a while.”

“No.” Dick looked sideways at him. “Has Barbara been spying on me?”

“No. But we’re concerned.” Dick rolled his eyes. “I’m concerned.”

Dick didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing.

Bruce sighed and sat down on Dick’s couch, leaving Dick standing there like an idiot. He couldn’t leave; it was his apartment. So he sat down beside Bruce. Bruce put his arm on the back of the couch, not touching Dick, but there.

“After Jason, I,” Bruce began. “I nearly killed him. It nearly killed me, not knowing whether he was alive or not. Letting my anger get the best of me. I’ve been on that edge.”

“But you never crossed it,” Dick said.

“I wouldn’t come back if I had,” Bruce said. “But you did. You felt guilt, Dick. You knew what you did was wrong. That’s why I’ve always needed you.”

“You don’t need me now, Bruce. I killed someone. I wanted to and I felt good about it.”

“And how do you feel now?”

Dick hung his head. “I kind of want to die.”

Bruce pulled Dick close. Dick buried his face in Bruce’s shoulder.

“You’ve learned, Dick. You know where that line is. You know when you’re about to cross it. You don’t have to punish yourself anymore.”

Dick sobbed into Bruce’s suit. Bruce held him tight and let him cry himself out.


End file.
